


Cloudy with a chance of romance

by wordsinpaper



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-07
Updated: 2015-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-16 17:14:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3496376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordsinpaper/pseuds/wordsinpaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You must be a good runner, judging from the impact."<br/>“I said I was sorry.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cloudy with a chance of romance

**Author's Note:**

> Ignore my puny tittle. We've already established I suck at those. Got the idea from a prompt at suddenlyprompts.tumblr.com. There's really no plot whatsoever. Just a silly thing that came to mind. Unbetaed, so all mistakes are mine. If you find any, please let me know so I can fix it! Thanks!

“Oh my God. I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you before it was too late!”

“Don’t worry,” Oliver says dismissively. He sits up and rubs the back of his head before pulling his hand back to look at it. Everything’s blurry, but he doesn’t see any red, so that’s not so bad.

“Are you okay? Does your head hurt?” the fuzzy silhouette dancing in front of him asks.

“Not more than it should have, considering it hit the pavement quite hard when you knocked me down.”

“Yeah, stupid question. I’m sorry,” the man says, grabbing Oliver’s arm and helping him up.

“You must be a good runner, judging from the impact,” Oliver comments.

“I said I was sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Oliver says, waving his hand at the other man, hoping he won’t accidentally hit him in the face.

He starts looking at the floor around him. But, of course, he can’t see a thing. Or, well, not clearly, that is. It all looks like plain sidewalk to him.

“What’s the matter? What are you looking for?” the man asks, looking around. “Oh!”

Oliver can tell he walks to his right and crouches down, before he stands and approaches Oliver again. He reaches out instinctively and feels the other man place the glasses in his hands.

“Oh, man, I’m so sorry. Are they broken?”

“Well, everything’s a bit hazy right now,” he says, looking down at his hands and bringing the glasses closer to his face. “But considering you handed me two pieces, I’d say they’re quite broken, yes.”

“I-I’ll pay for it,” the guy hurriedly says. “I’ll-We’ll get you new glasses. Do you want me to take you anywhere? My car’s not anywhere near here, but we could call a cab or something and-”

“Whoa, take it easy,” Oliver interrupts. “I was almost home. I have contact lenses in the house. They’ll do for now.”

“Uh, okay. I can walk with you there. If you don’t mind a stranger knowing where you live, I mean… I promise I won’t try to rob you or something.”

Oliver chuckles as the man takes his arm and follows Oliver’s lead. “You’d probably only end up breaking something else.”

“I’m s-”

“You’re sorry, yes, I know.” He looks at the blurry, yet familiar buildings. “Okay, it’s two doors down from this one,” he says pointing at a house to his left.

“Are you sure?”

Oliver stops walking and turns to him. “I’m not actually blind, you know? Besides, I’ve lived here long enough to know this place well.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend.”

They walk inside, the other man keeping close in case Oliver needs anything, but considering the fact that being that close to him was what got Oliver in this situation to start with, he almost wants to ask the other man to take a few steps back and let him take the stairs in peace.

He’s dangling his keys in front of his nose when he hears barely concealed laughter behind him.

“You know, I don’t know how seriously I can take your apologies if you keep laughing behind my back,” he comments in a dry tone, finally getting the right key. He feels the lock with his thumb, finding the keyhole and unlocking his door.

He walks inside, leaving the door open for the other man to follow.

“I’m guessing you know your apartment better than you know your street, so I won’t offer you my help here,” the other man says, closing the door behind him.

“If you think I’d somehow miss my couch or a wall or door, then you still haven’t grasped the concept of me not being actually blind,” he replies, walking into the bathroom and looking in his medicine cabinet, squinting his eyes to clear some of the fog in his vision and locate his contact lenses.

A few minutes later, he walks back out, broken glasses in hand.

“It’s not so bad. They might still be able to…” he pauses when the man in his living room turns around to face him.

“Oh, hi, there! Sorry, I was just,” he points behind him at the bookshelves he was just inspecting. “I realize now that was probably rude of me. Are you okay, dude? You can see me clearly now?”

“Yeah,” Oliver says softly, then clears his throat and tries again. “Yes, I can. You were out running,” he says, pointing at the man’s sweaty outfit.

“Um. Yeah. I thought we established that when I practically ran you over just now?” he says with a frown.

Right. He almost facepalms at himself for sounding so dumb.

“Yes, but you could be running late for work or something,” he says, trying to make it sound like he didn’t just start to mentally dig a hole to bury himself in.

“Oh, no. Not that, no. Too early for work. Just a morning run, nothing more. Are you sure you’re okay, though? Not feeling dizzy or confused?”

“I did get the right house and I didn’t zig-zag my way here, so I think we’re safe, uh… what’s your name?”

“Connor,” he says and walks forward to extend his hand.

“I’m Oliver,” he replies, shaking Connor’s hand.

“So, uh, we can go see what we can do about those glasses, if you’d like. Or you could just bill me your expenses later.”

Oliver bites his lip.

“Or… you could pay for dinner.”

Connor’s face takes on a surprised expression before he looks down to hide his pleased smile.

“Are you sure you want me to take you out? I mean, we already had an accident and we didn’t even know each other then. This has the potential to be catastrophic.”

Oliver fiddles with the broken glasses.

“Well, yeah, but I think we’ll be safe if none of us is out there running. It also helps if I can keep an eye on you.”

Connor’s smile turns leery.

“Then I should probably keep my eyes on you, too. Not that it will be a difficult task…”

Oliver chuckles.

“So… is that an acceptable arrangement for you?”

“It’s perfect. Give me your phone.”

Oliver watches as Connor dials his number, reaching for his own phone once it starts ringing.

“Done,” Connor says, handing back Oliver’s phone. “I’ll text you in a few hours with a time and a place, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” Oliver nods dumbly.

Connor steps forward to drop a quick kiss on his cheek before turning to leave.

“See you soon, Oliver!” he hears before the door closes.

He looks down at the broken pair of glasses in his hands and shrugs.

“I didn’t even like you that much.”


End file.
